


Serpentine

by Lorde_Shadowz



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 'Cause Ginny Was/Is-- It's Complicated, Bad Godric Gryffindor, Canon Backstory, Creature Harry Potter, Creature Inheritance, Creature Lily Evans Potter, F/F, F/M, Femslash, Harry Potter is Not the Boy-Who-Lived, Human Nagini (Harry Potter), Lesbian Ginny Weasley, Morally Grey Dumbledore, NO Molly Weasley Bashing, Parselmouth Ginny Weasley, She's Doing the Best She Can, Snakes, good nagini, nagas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26028325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorde_Shadowz/pseuds/Lorde_Shadowz
Summary: In which Ginny Weasley is the Chosen One, Harry is not human, and Albus Dumbledore is very, very confused.
Relationships: Harry Potter/OC, Nagini/Ginny Weasley
Comments: 7
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

It was later said that the entire mess began with one particularly sultry and stifling night in early September, but in reality it started much, much earlier. It started with a man who thought he could change fate and a mother who wanted to keep her baby from harm, and a woman who was keeping a rather large secret under her husband's much-lauded nose.

In a large and sprawling house, stuck together in fabulous and haphazard ways by what seemed like magic alone (and indeed, that was not far from the truth) was a woman of blue eyes, frizzy red hair, and indeterminate age, who was busy conducting a miniature army of kitchen utensils, knives and pots and slotted spoons, while a baby boy floated in a levitating pram beside her, and two more toddlers tugged at her skirts, causing little wavers and momentary halts in the cooking when she had to turn and distract them. Behind, another boy, perhaps nine years of age, was doing his best to distract his younger siblings. The father was evidently off at work, but that didn't matter greatly, as the mother, if frustrated, was evidently able to take care of herself, although the squealing and screaming and Celestina Warbeck music warbling from a little transistor radio that her husband had been tinkering with was evidently making her a little on edge.

At that moment, there was a loud knock on the door.

"Charlie, can you handle the children for a minute?" the woman asked, referring to her oldest son. She nevertheless cast stasis charms on all the food and a few child-safety spells before going to the door; Charlie was, after all, still very young himself.

At the door was a man who looked like he had walked out of a fairy tale, even in a magical world such as this. He had a father Christmas beard that flowed all the way to his waist and twinkling blue eyes that seemed to see through everything and approve it in the same instant, and he wore robes of a sedate- for him- purple with golden and green astrological and arithmantic symbols, shifting around him in a breeze that seemed to come from him alone, and not from the elements around them. "Hello, Molly. You wanted to see me?"

"I..." the woman hesitated for only the briefest of instants. "Yes. Won't you come in? You'll have to forgive me for the mess; these kids are Morgana herself to keep track of- Bill! Quit picking on your brother! One moment, let me just settle these rascals down and get you some tea."

The old man smiled good-naturedly and came in, being careful to keep out of the way of the toddlers tumbling like puppies all over the floor as he did so. All the chairs in the kitchen were covered with dishes and paper and contraptions evidently being tinkered on, but a single wave of Molly's wand caused a place to be cleared at once, and in another moment the woman had set some water a boil with a quick heating charm and was brewing a pot of tea, while a canister of butter biscuits flew from the nearby cupboard.

The old man took a moment to get settled, sitting down with a swish of his extravagant robes, and graciously accepted a butter biscuit, waiting for the tea to be ready. After a few moments of small talk, however, he abruptly grew more serious. "I assume that you had a reason to call me here, Molly? We have to update the Hogwarts wards in half an hour; as it stands, it won't take the Death Eaters more than forty minutes to break through them and attack the castle itself."

Molly's eyes widened. "Oh! I thought- you said that this was a good time! You ought to get going then!"

"Nonsense, my dear, I can certainly spare a few minutes. You said that it was important?"

Molly nodded seriously. "I...I'm pregnant."

The old man looked surprised, though likely more because of the gravity in her words than her admission that she was pregnant yet again. "Oh, congratulations! Is it a boy or a girl, or have you cast the diagnostic yet?"

"It's a boy," Molly replied. "It's just...it's the war. I haven't told Arthur yet; I can't. We've been trying for a girl for so long, I think he'll be disappointed. And besides, there's the war! I don't want to bring another baby into this."

"You're not considering destroying it, are you?" asked her confidant, a rather horrified look showing in his erstwhile twinkling eyes.

"Oh, Merlin no!" she burst out, aghast. "Oh, no!"

"Then...what do you need my help for, my dear? Are you planning on convincing Arthur to put the Burrow under Fidelius?"

"That...that would be a good idea," she said, a bit of hope flashing across her face for the first time since the old man had initiated the more serious bit of the conversation. "But I don't think Arthur would do it; he wants our house to be open to guests if the attacks should heat up even more. Is there something I could do? Anything?

The old man stared at her, looking (had one been studying him closely) rather calculating at this. "I do believe so. It is an extraordinarily difficult potion, but I know someone who can brew it. The _Nascendi Mora_ potion will delay the birth for a few months to a year, maybe longer, and will also protect the fetus with ambient magic; it's a sort of stasis for the baby, so that you could give birth to him in peacetime without harm. It _does_ have the side-effect of perhaps changing the baby's gender or core color or maybe a few cosmetic aspects of him, but it should not hurt him, and it is not Dark, only difficult. It is usually only used in desperate times, but in war...we are all desperate."

Molly blinked a few times. "That's...complicated," she began.

"It seems to be the only viable way of keeping him safe," the man replied soberly, stroking a hand through his silvery-white hair. "Aside from simply adding to the wards, that is.

Molly hesitated, her scepticism of the overly-complex plan warring with the obvious respect she held for her confidant. "It won't hurt him, and it will keep him safe?" she asked.

A nod in the affirmative.

"Then...then I'll do it. For the baby."

"Shouldn't you think it over?" the man asked, although he did not himself look as though he wanted her to stop and think. "It _is_ a rather large step..."

"And I'm going to take it," was her firm reply. "I want my baby to be safe, as safe as possible."

"Then I will contact a Potions Master to brew the potion, and if you still want to go through with this, you should of course do so." The man swished his long-cold tea in his cup, and then at last drank it.

Molly beamed, and once he had set down the cup safely she drew him into a tight hug. "Thank you. Thank you, Albus!"

"You're quite welcome, my dear, I am very glad to help." Albus hugged her back before rising, seemingly reluctant and with a mumbled excuse for having to leave, then patted the nearest child on the head, banished his cup to the sink (the biscuits had not been touched) and headed for the door, telling the woman to look out for the potion in the mail within the month. And then Albus Dumbledore disapparated back to Hogwarts, his school and home.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a different part of Magical Britain, another woman was sequestered in her house, but this one (though she _was_ , admittedly, a mother) had sent her child to be with it's father's friend, Remus Lupin, a kindly odd-jobs man and werewolf, while she shifted feverishly through stacks and stacks of books owl-ordered from as far away as India, written in tongues that her husband (and indeed, most wizards in all of Britain) could not pronounce. She had started with obscure English books and texts only available to Unspeakables like herself, but there was nothing there, and so she had begun to search among foreign books detailing strange foreign magics.

Or not so strange, to her. Lily Evans Potter had always seemed like an ordinary witch, a young woman who had found out about magic at the age of eight and started formally learning witchcraft and the various related arts at the tender age of eleven; top of her class, but nothing special, especially since her parents were not magical, making her something of a second-class citizen in this strange fantasy world. Indeed, no one could possibly notice that she was not mind bogglingly normal, if it were not for her vibrant viridian green eyes that slitted ever so slightly when she was angry, and the odd pattern of freckles on her face and neck that didn't seem quite natural.

In reality, however, she was not human. Well, she was half-human, but she hadn't told that to anyone, not even her best friend Severus; she'd only figured out her full powers at fifteen, after they were officially no longer friends, and by then she had learned a lot about the magical world, enough to know about the stigmas against wizards and witches with creature blood. It was for the same reason that she had never told her husband, or even her best friend Alice; her husband because he would probably get tipsy one day and spill her secrets, still being immature, and Alice because she didn't know how the young woman was going to react and didn't want her friend to break it off with her, or, worse, turn her in to the Ministry (although she personally doubted _that_ could ever happen.)

Now, however, she knew that she might not be able to keep her secret forever. There was no wizarding magic which could possibly be enough to protect her son, should Dark Lord Voldemort fling a killing curse, and she refused to acknowledge the possibility of her precious little son, only a year old, dying. Luckily, however, she was not confined to wizarding magic if worse came to worst, and there _had_ to be something about the killing curse in these moldy old books!

She had already read all of the books that were written in human languages, since there were specialized incantations to translate anything you might want, but there was no magic which could translate written parselscript, and the few books that she had gotten in that tongue were slow going, even to a parselmouth. (Which she was, although she had not yet told James Potter that she could talk to snakes, considering the reputations of the few western parselmouths that had plagued Britain in various centuries had accreted. She did not want her lawfully wedded husband from running away from her in terror, thank you very much, not unless he had done something to deserve it, which he hadn't for years.

Lily frowned in concentration, flicking a momentarily forked tongue out of her mouth as she read, scanning each book for so much as a mention of the killing curse, a possible shield against Death Eater attacks, almost literally hissing in frustration. Surely one of the books she had dragged in here could help?

It was in the last book that she looked that found her answer. Said book was actually a scroll, exported from India and only available to nagas or hybrids (which, luckily, was what she was). Aside from a lot of interesting but irrelevant information about her species (they had an ingrained instinctual knowledge of where precious objects were, they could always find anything that they lost, they could shift into any kind of snake in existence, and so on) there was a particularly powerful spell a naga could cast that could literally allow one naga to die for another naga (or even another creature), a spell of such potent physical protection that the one on whom it had been cast would be virtually invulnerable (although, of course, it could not last forever). It was a difficult spell, partially in parselmouth and partially in Indian (she could not speak the latter, and kept messing up the pronunciation) but she would suffer through all this and more if it meant that her child would be protected.

Later that evening she convinced her husband, James Potter, to go out for the evening with his friends, while she had a little time to "bond" with her baby. The very minute and second that he was out the door, she fled to the nursery, knowing instinctively that she had to hurry or risk the consequences. The war was at its height, after all, and there was a prophecy that might possibly be about her baby. She couldn't take the chance!

She murmured the spell over her drowsing child, hoping against hope that it would be enough to protect him, a haunting Indian melody, like a lullaby, mingling with the sibilant hisses of parseltongue, a gift which not even her husband knew she had. Little Harry cried a little as the magic sunk in, but it did not seem to harm him. Good. He had to be safe, no matter what, even if she had to give her life. She toyed with trying to cast the protection spell on James, next, but it would only be totally effective on one person, and she also did not exactly want to reveal what she was to James. She felt rather ashamed about it, but the fact remained that even James, a Light-side and progressive pureblood, still probably would not like the idea of being married to a "dirty creature", especially a naga (as nagas were supposed to be considered evil in Britain for whatever racist reasons.) Besides, James hated snakes, and even anything associated with them, like parseltongue and the Slytherin house at Hogwarts. She might have told him the truth in years past, but she simply hadn't known until she was already married, and she didn't want to break up the family or leave Harry without a father. Not to mention that being discovered as a creature, by her own husband no less, would be such a large scandal that she would likely never recover from it, nor would she be able to find work even if she was allowed to keep her son.

Better to keep it quiet, then, just for now; better to save it for when her son was of age and out on his own, so it couldn't hurt him quite as much. There was a seventy-five percent chance that he would never even show the slightest hint of being a naga, anyway, and a twenty-five percent chance that he did not carry the gene at all, seeing as the naga blood was so dilute by now. It was almost an impossibility that he would end up being a full and visible naga like herself.

Meanwhile, in a great and soaring castle known as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore was finalizing his plans to "save" the Wizarding World at whatever cost required.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry's dreams had been troubled and confusing lately, and it was beginning to worry him. They weren't visions, exactly, but they were still disturbing, dreams of snakes. Often he even dreamed he _was_ a snake, which scared him still more since it reminded him of the vision he had had in which he had seen through the eyes of Voldemort's pet snake. Only the fact that his scar had not ached and the fact that he had not dreamed of murdering people kept him sane. And yet he wasn't scared in the dreams. That was what worried him more than everything else, when he was awake; he felt as though he was coming home as soon as he began to dream.

In the past week the dreams had escalated, too. They were more vivid, more real. He could taste the blood in the back of his throat when the snake killed a muskrat, and he had recently been waking up itching and achy, and sore even when he hadn't had Quidditch practice the night before.

It was definitely time to worry. That said, he didn't particularly want to go to Dumbledore about the dreams. He still somewhat trusted him, but after the summer he had spent alone in his room at the Dursleys, he had had time to think, and after Sirius's death and the revelation of the prophecy, he had had plenty to think _about_. And he hadn't exactly liked a number of the conclusions he had come to.

Why had Dumbledore hidden the prophecy from him for so long? It certainly couldn't have been "to preserve his innocence", because Merlin knew that he didn't exactly have any innocence now, and wouldn't have even if the Dursleys had treated him normally. Any innocence he might have had in early childhood had been beaten out of him by his uncle, by Quirrelmort in his first year at Hogwarts, by Tom Riddle and his pet basilisk in second year, by the story of Pettigrew's betrayal in his third year, and on and on. Not to mention that it would have died an extraordinarily painful death when he had seen Cedric die in front of him for no other reason than he was just in the way. He had learned early on that doing everything right didn't mean a reward, that he had the capability to kill, that psychopaths existed and one was after him, that the closest friends could not be trusted and the most innocuous person could prove a threat, and, of course, that bureaucracy and politics are the cruelest of all enemies and that fame could do literally nothing for him.

So surely telling him a prophecy stating something that he pretty much already knew wouldn't exactly be a problem, would it?

Then there was the matter of the Dursleys; Dumbledore had to have known how they were treating him, and yet he'd simply left him there to rot, and continued to do so year after year, stating that "the blood of his mother" would save him from Death Eaters. What did that matter if his relatives beat or starved him to death? And how exactly did the blood wards protect him if his so-called relatives had to love him to make it work? He had known for years that Uncle Vernon, at least, would rather have him dead and Petunia kept him alive only because of what the neighbors said (though recently Dudley had become tolerable to him). Besides, his blood currently flowed in Voldemort's veins do to the ritual that Pettigrew had done to resurrect the self-styled lord, which (at least according to Harry's admittedly small grasp of the theory of magical warding) meant that the blood-golem that Voldemort was now was literally nearly genetically identical and could get through the wards whenever he felt like it. He'd also always wondered why Madame Pomfrey never gave him a yearly checkup like the primary school nurse did. Was that because Dumbledore didn't want the world knowing that the precious savior was abused?

Then there were all the other incidents over the years that clinched it; he'd had help from his friends whenever he had needed anything, but the adults around had never actually helped him much at all, barring Madame Pomfrey whose _job_ was to help. All of his DADA teachers except Lupin had been frauds or threats (or both, in Lockhart's case). Minerva Mcgonagall, despite being his Head of House, had never actually seemed to notice that he needed new glasses, though she _had_ noticed he'd been a good Seeker, and had promptly put him on the Quidditch team without even asking if the elective was something he'd wanted to do. (Though, of course, it had been.) She had also not noticed Ginny weakening in Second Year, or Ron's broken wand, and so on, and she'd then brushed him off both times he had legitimately asked for help (with the stone and then with Umbridge). Flitwick and Sprout, while good teachers, seemed content to leave any non-class related questions and concerns to Mcgonagall's discretion, and Snape was actively out to get him. Even Remus, the closest he'd had to a mentor, had not done much more than tell him stories about the antics that _he'd_ gotten up to in school and teach him the patronus. Once again, a very good teacher, but not exactly good for extracurricular help.

Also, any muggle school that had tried to hide what Dumbledore routinely put under the rug -trolls, thousand-year-old mad basilisks, werewolves who forgot to take their medicine (sorry Remus), trees that hit people, three headed monster dogs, baby dragons, killer plants, escaped murderers, and dementors (ok, that last was the Ministry's fault, but still!) - would be shut down instantly. So why hadn't Hogwarts at least been investigated?

The answers that he was coming up with honestly scared him, and so did the odd aches and itching and the very strange dreams. He knew he ought to talk to Dumbledore or even Madame Pomfrey, but he would rather try to deal with it himself, if he could.

He knew he was definitely going to have to deal with it himself when the first scales appeared.

In an instant, his other worries: Draco Malfoy was acting oddly and sneaking around the school, Voldemort must be planning an attack, Dumbledore was giving him odd "lessons" which were honestly rather confusing and unhelpful (if Dumbledore wanted him to learn about Riddle, he could just _tell_ him all he needed to know instead of dragging him through this rigmarole), and Snape was being more of a bastard than usual- all flew out the window. What the hell was happening to him! He didn't dare tell his friends even- he remembered how they had reacted when they had learned he was a parselmouth- so he resorted to the type of glamours he had used to hide his scars as soon as he had been able to cast them, so he could shower or strip in the Quidditch training rooms without having to field awkward questions about belt scars.

He was still achy and tired though, and he could barely keep himself from itching in class, nor were any anti-itching potions effective. And then came the day when he removed the glamours in the privacy of the Rooms of Requirement and knew that he was no longer human.

He did not actually look too bad in a weird snaky way; he had green, slightly-slitted eyes and a cobra's hood in place of hair, and delicate patterns of green and gold scales covering his body, even in some rather...intimate places, and his legs had been growing rather rubbery lately. All fine, except that it was not the body that he had grown up with and in fact it reminded him far too much of Tom Riddle's new resurrected body, save for the fact that the scales are colored and his face was still human (besides the scales accenting it).

Yeah. No. He was _not_ telling Dumbledore about this.

He went to the library on every possible break, rivalling even Hermione, and researched curses that could potentially cause a human to lose his or her humanity. He found nothing, not even a mention. Not even in the Restricted Section or the Rooms of Requirement (which were inexplicably closed more and more often) could he find an answer to what was happening to him. He was at his wits' end when he came across a portrait in the deepest part of the dungeons (he had been trying to run away from Filch and Mrs. Norris). He might have just passed it by, and Merlin knows what would have happened after that, but fortunately he happened to see it...and it was of a young woman with slitted yellow eyes and the same general body type that he had, except that her legs seemed to have fuzed into a long, serpentine tail.

"Hello?" he asked tentatively.

The snake woman didn't answer, though she did seem to hear him.

Harry paused, then frowned and repeated the greeting in parselmouth. This time, she jerked her head up.

_~Hello, Speaker,~_ she said, eyes widening. _~How did you find me? He said that no one could?~_

_~I was just wandering in the dungeons,~_ Harry told her, surprised. _~Who's he?~_

_~Godric Gryffindor!~_ She spat the word with complete and utter viciousness, eyes slitted in serpentine anger. _~Would you mind telling me what year it is?~_

Harry told her, and her eyes widened.

_~WHAT?!~_

_~1996 AD,~_ Harry repeated.

The snake woman seemed furious, and Harry asked her what had happened.

_~Godric, for all his 'nobility' hated non-human sentient magical races,~_ she said disgustedly. _~Especially me, because I, quote: 'Seduced his honorary brother away from him' Not really much seduction was necessary, actually; he was the one who proposed.~_ She sighed. _~This was supposed to be my wedding portrait, hence the wedding dress.~_ She motioned to the green and gold dress draped luxuriantly around her, the painted bangles on her wrists. _~The bastard convinced Salazar that I had imperiused him- I think he used some sort of coercion potion- and so he broke off the marriage. Then, when I was walking back to our rooms in tears, he grabbed me and blindfolded me and cast a spell to trap me in this portrait, and then he took me into the dungeons so deep that not even Sal could ever find me. I wanted a baby...~_ She added wistfully. _~I was so happy on my wedding day, and then Godric ruined it! The last I heard was that Sal was going to marry a girl named Lucretia, a proper pureblood girl. But why are you here? Most people don't come to the dungeons on purpose, and even fewer are willing to talk to a naga...~_

Harry blinked, reeling slightly from the story (which was, after all, much different than the typical stories told about Godric Gryffindor). _~Is that what you are?~_

The naga looked mildly affronted, and then afraid. _~You don't- did they kill us all?!~_

_~I don't think so,~_ Harry replied. _~But they don't like non-human magical races in this era either. I've never actually seen a naga, but I was curious.~_ He frowned. _~Can you keep this a secret?~_

_~Keep what a secret? And it's not like there are really any people to tell around here. Unless someone can figure out the spell to get me out of this sarding canvas...~_ at this, she blushed rather furiously, and Harry gathered that whatever she had said was not fit for polite company. He would have liked to ask about it, but instead he only said: _~Um, here, I'll show you~_ and took off the glamours he had been wearing.

Her slitted eyes dilated abruptly. _~You are a nagaraja!~_

_~Um. A what?~_ Harry asked, startled.

_~A king naga,~_ she replied, sounding rather as though she had expected him to know what it meant.

Harry stared at her, wondering if there had been a translation error. _~A king naga?~_ he asked slowly.

_~Yes.~_

_~Um, I thought I was human until a few months ago. Is that normal, and, if so, why am I a naga when my parents weren't?~_

_~One of your parents would have to have been a naga or a halfling,~_ she responded. _~There's a chance that one of them didn't want to deal with the prejudice and so disguised him or herself, or perhaps both had the gene but in so little a quantity that it didn't show on the outside. I'm assuming the latter, if they didn't take you aside to discuss your inheritance.~_

_~They're dead,~_ said Harry finally.

_~Oh. Well, I suppose that explains it.~_ She was silent for a long moment, and then added: _~I assume whoever raised you did not teach you about nagas?~_

_~They didn't teach me much of anything except how to cook and clean,~_ Harry replied, unable to completely expunge the bitterness in his voice. _~I didn't even know magic exists until my eleventh birthday.~_

_~So you can use your gifts already then?~ The naga sounded surprised. ~Or are you wizardborn?~_

_~My gifts?~_

_~Ability to manipulate metals and jewels, hyper awareness of things or people you desire to protect, power over rain and growing things, healing, fertility...~_

_~I can do things like that with my wand, if that's what you're thinking.~_

_~Then I suppose the answer is no. That would make sense though. Few nagas' power awakens before they mature.~_

_~What does maturing intail in this case?~_ Harry asked, fascinated.

_~It means you become a full naga, and if you are wizardborn, which I assume you are, you gain full wizarding maturity on top of your naga changes; your core expands to contain your full allotment of magic, and any recessive gifts will be able to be accessed. Also, unfortunately, adult wizarding contracts will become binding and you will also become liable for any heirs you might have. For your naga maturity, it means you'll have your full naga form, that is, half human and half king cobra, you will be able to change into any kind of snake that you have seen or seen reasonably accurate images of, and your powers come in. Unfortunately, that also means that you are sexually mature, meaning that you can sire hatchlings and lay eggs.~_

_~Wait, I can lay eggs?! How in Merlin's name can I lay eggs? I'm male!~_

_~You're male in your human form, Speaker. As a naga, you are both male and female, and your sex depends on the kind of snake you are when you take on a snakes' form. It shouldn't matter much when you form a mating ball, but you do have to be careful with positions unless you want to be with egg.~_

Harry had turned a rather interesting color, listening. _~Um, can we change the subject?~_

The naga had the temerity to laugh. _~Of course, Speaker.~_

_~So, um, what did you mean when you said that I am a nagaraja?~_

_~You are a king of snakes. All other snakes will answer to you or risk your magics marking them as untouchable, and only the gods and other nagarajas are more powerful.~_

"What?!" Harry burst out in English, and then had to make a concerted effort to go back to parseltongue. He was actually swaying a little on his feet. _~Are you serious? Me? How do you know I'm a nagaraja?~_

_~You have a crest emblazoned by the gods' fire,~_ she replied, smiling a little. _~In human terms, your cobra's hood has a gold sheen, you have wings, and you are larger than an ordinary naga. You also have a nearly unapproachable aura of divine serpent magic in your naga form; when someone trapped in a portrait can feel it, it's strong.~_

_~So I'm a king. A naga king.~_

The naga nodded. _~You don't have any human-given duties, as far as I know, except maybe ceremonial ones, but your magic is going to be extra powerful and you will likely feel a compulsion to save other creatures, even those who probably don't deserve it by human standards and especially snakes. Being semi-divine, you'll have the power to help or save, and you should use it; the magic itself will want you to, although you can ignore it. You'll also only be allowed one mate at a time; basically, no adultery. That's enforceable by magic itself. That said, you can break off an unhealthy or vapid relationship whenever you want; you just can't cheat. You will also be able to sense whether a witch or wizard is good or not, based on their auras, although we can discuss that later when your aura sight comes in, because you probably have enough to think about right now.~_

Harry did indeed have quite a lot to think about. _~Um, so, how do I hide this?~_ Harry asked at last when he had wrangled his thoughts into some semblance of order. _~Is there like a specialized glamour, or...~_

_~For now, you'll have to keep on using the glamours you are using. When you are a fully mature nagaraja, however, you should be able to just will yourself to look human, and you will be.~_

_~How do I know I'm mature?~_ Harry asked, hoping it would be soon. He had had rather too many close calls as it was.

_~You'll experience your integration sickness, which means that the naga magic and your adult wizarding magic are trying to join your core. It makes you feverish and ill for a few days, but you can probably pass it off as a bad cold so that a Healer doesn't have to come look at you. Then your legs fuze fully together into a naga tail, and your wings sprout. When your wings have feathers on them and your tail is fully scaled, you are mature, and, being a nagaraja, your maturity will be marked with a blaze of magical power, so you best get somewhere safe and secure and have someone cover for you; I suggest Sal's private chambers, which can be reached by hissing 'open' in the language. The entrances are in the headmaster's office, in the dungeons two corridors down from here, or in the girls' bathroom on the second floor.~_

_~Err, how long will this take?~_

_~My integration sickness was three days, and then my full naga form took another week to ripen, but I am an ordinary naga. Your integration sickness will likely be a day or so longer, depending on your power, and then your naga form will take another few days after the normal time because you'll have wings trying to break out of your back too.~_

_~Will I be able to speak English when I'm a naga?~ Harry asked, since she had not said a word that was not parselmouth the entire time they had been talking._

_~It's more difficult; your tongue's not made for it. That said, it_ is _possible; the only reason I'm speaking parseltongue right now is because you probably don't speak Sanskrit and I don't speak English, and because whatever idiot painted me painted me with a forked tongue.~_

_~So nagas don't normally have forked tongues?~_

_~They can, but they normally don't; it depends on the species and the class. Of course, you probably_ will _have one, being a nagaraja, but there's a handy transfiguration so that you can have a human tongue if you want.~ She paused. ~Um, I just realized, do you have classes? I wouldn't want to be taking you away from whatever you're supposed to be learning.~_

Harry cast a 'tempus' and realized with a shock that it was lunch time. _~I'm just missing lunch...~_

_~You should probably be getting back then; you need your strength for the changes that are going to be happening to you soon. You'll need extra sleep and calories from now until you become fully nagaraja.~_

_~Right; thank you so much,~_ Harry told the portrait, suddenly remembering to be grateful.

_~It's no trouble at all, Raja,~_ the naga replied. _~No trouble at all. It's not like I have much to do here, and since I'm not even a real portrait, I can't even wander into other portrait frames, so talking to you was wonderful. Please do come back sometime...~_

_~I will,~_ Harry promised, smiling at her. _~And maybe I can even find some way to get you out.~_

_~That would be wonderful, Raja,~_ said the naga wistfully. _~I don't think it's possible, but if it is, I have faith that you'll find something.~_

Harry said goodbye, then stopped as he was leaving. _~Wait, I never got your name.~_

_~Oh, Sleepless.~_ The naga frowned, then, laboriously said: "Anisha," in Sanskrit, her serpentine tongue stumbling over the word.

_~That is beautiful. Mine is_ "Harry"~ Harry told her, reluctantly picking up his bag. _~Thank you so much.~_

_~You're welcome,~_ she called after him, soft yellow eyes shining.

And Harry stumbled through the halls of Hogwarts in a mild daze. All he could think of was Anisha's portrait problem, and what she would be like if he could ever free her. That and the fact that there was very likely no way in Hell to hide all the changes that would be striking his body. He would probably have to take Madame Pomfrey, at the very least, into his confidence. He hoped to Merlin that she was as trustworthy as he had always assumed. He did not need these new developments getting to Voldemort...or to Dumbledore...or, Merlin forbid, the press. And also, he would be a bloody _snake king_?!


	3. Chapter 3

Ginevra Weasley had more secrets than a lockbox in Gringotts. Oh, to be sure, she never let them affect her. She seemed just as normal, and as silly, and as gossipy as the rest of the chattering horde of her yearmates, but she could never, in reality, be so innocent or so shallow. Nor did she care the slightest bit about boys, either, except in the most general sense. _That_ had been knocked out of her in first year, after all.

She was stained, at least in her mind. Not broken, oh Merlin no. She was too strong for that. But a little more jaded, and a little more sad? Yes. Tom had changed her, however much she tried to deny it on the outside, and the fact that she had never seen a mind-healer for it didn't help either. It was the little things, the occlumency shields that even her brother Bill couldn't break through on the rare occasions that she decided to shield her mind, the shadows in her dreams that couldn't quite be shaken, no matter what she did, and the way that she sometimes addressed her personal diary entries to Tom, even now. And sometimes she was inclined to attribute her obsession with the female form to the possession, too. It was easier, that way, she could pretend that it was all residue of Tom's unhealthy attraction to her, rather than just the way she was. Not that that did much good. She was just different, however much she tried to pretend, for her mum, that she wanted to marry the Chosen One. Yuck. No. Not a good thought. Not that Harry wasn't a cute guy, if a little scrawny, but men just didn't do it for her. At all. Honestly, the only thing they were good for was opening doors and various containers, and (if they were her brothers) beating the potential boyfriends off with a stick, if and when anyone became interested in her in that way. He was certainly her hero, and probably always would be (you can't _not_ make an impression when you literally jump down into a death pit to fight an evil memory and a sixty-foot snake that can kill with a glance and has venom-soaked fangs as long as someone's arm to save him or her) but it was hard to think of him as potential boyfriend material when she was also secretly admiring Parvati Patil's cleavage at the same time...

She just had to get away, for a moment. Get away from classes, get away from homework, get away from boys, get away from her crush (who, unfortunately, was relentlessly straight and enjoyed describing her various conquests, which really made evenings in the dorm _far_ more awkward than they had any reason or right to be) and just leave _everything_ behind for a few minutes.

Which led her to the situation she was in now, sitting in middle of the Hogwarts grounds, holding a snake that she could somehow understand. How in Merlin's name? Surely Tom's possession hadn't tainted her so very deeply... But she knew, even as she thought it, that it was true. He had left a mark on her so deep that it had changed her very way of thinking, her very being. Tom Riddle! The name haunted her even now, no matter how she tried to move past it.

The little grass snake shifted in her lap again, and she was abruptly shaken out of her thoughts.

_~Can I move now?~_ she- how did she know the snake was female?- asked.

_~Oh, yesss, ssorry,~_ Ginny said distractedly. The snake raised its head, swaying gently, and maneuvered her body over to curl next to her, pressed up against her leg; evidently she liked the warmth emanating from the human girl, but didn't want to be _too_ close.

_~Sssso what troubless you, Ssspeaker?~_ there was a snaky sort of concern in the hiss, and Ginny blinked in surprise. How had she known? More importantly, why did she care?

_~Many things.~_ She didn't even know where to start, now that she thought about it. _~For one thing, there is a war going on.~_

_~A war?~_

_~Yesss, there is a man who iss very evil, and he and hiss followersss hate uss and want to kill uss. Ssso we have to kill them.~_

The snake nodded at this. _~I sssee. That is definitely something to worry about. Do you think you have a good chance against him?~_

Ginny could already tell that she was going to like this snake. _~That dependsss,~_ Ginny replied. _~The problem is, he'ss not like an ordinary human, or even an ordinary wizard. There's a prophecy about him, a prophecy that ssssays that only one of my friends can kill him, ssso until he can do that, the war iss not over.~_

The snake gave the serpentine equivalent of a frown. _~How doesss that work? Doesssn't he bleed just like any other wizard?~_

_~Well, yess, but according to the thingsss I've overheard, he can't die normally, so he'd just bleed for a while and then recover and then come back even madder. Not sssure how that would work myssself, but that'ss how it iss. My friend actually killed him sssixteen years ago, but he didn't die, becaussse the prophecy hadn't come to pass yet. He came back asss a ssort of half-ghost and possesssed one of our teacherss.~_

The snake actually shivered. _~Issshtar! But there_ iss _a way to kill him, right?"_

_~Yeah, I asssume sso. As long ass it'ss my friend doing it, it can probably be anything.~_

_~Sso sssome other wizards could just hold the bad one down while your friend kills him?"_

Ginny gave a startled laugh. _~Maybe. I don't know.~_

_~Well, that would be the ticket. If the only problem iss that it hass to be your friend killing him, you could just have an army take out all hiss followersss, tie him up, and let your friend kill him. And about thisss prophecy; does it explicitly ssay that your friend hass to be the one to kill him?~_

_~I don't think sso, no, but I was never allowed to hear the whole thing. Why do you ask?~_

_~It could be sssomeone elsse entirely, you know. If it doesn't actually say, there's room for interpretation.~_

Ginny's eyes widened. Could it? Could it be possible that they had gotten the wrong Chosen One, from the very beginning? _~Maybe. I hope that if it iss sssomeone else, we find them ssoon...~_

_~I hope ssso, too. Tell me, iss thisss dark one dangerous to sssnakes?~_

_~He has a pet snake, but I don't think she's very happy,~_ Ginny replied, shuddering. Even if Nagini _was_ a terrifying, horrible creature, Ginny could sympathize with her, having been possessed by Tom herself. And she had no doubt that having the fully-grown Tom in her head would be much, much worse. _~He likesss snakess, anyway, sso he will probably not go out of hiss way to hurt you, but it would be a good idea to ssstay out of hiss way regardless.~_

The snake nodded, and there was a short silence. Ginny suddenly couldn't help breaking it, though she was blushing very furiously as she did so. There was one other thing that had been troubling her for ages, of course, and she did not have anyone she trusted enough to share it with except perhaps Luna Lovegood, who she hadn't really been hanging out with recently. ~ _Are there ssnakesss who don't like other snakes in the normal way?~_ she asked on impulse. Merlin, she was coming out to a snake!

_~What do you mean? Like asss in ssun-sisssters, or asss in forming a mating ball?~_

Ginny wasn't quite clear on the terms that the snake had used, but she assumed the second one was more apt, from what it sounded like, and said so. The snake bobbed her head in what seemed almost like a nod.

_~I am not quite ssure what to tell you,~_ the snake told her after a few moments of thinking about it. _~The slow ones get eaten, if that's what you're saying, and they don't end up having snakelings.~_

Ginny blinked. _~Oh, I didn't mean like that. Just, are there snakes that don't want to mate with snakes of the opposite gender?~_

The snake blinked. _~I ssuppossse. I've heard that ssome sssnakes don't have both sets of partss, but I wouldn't know about that. For uss, it's asss simple asss deciding who wantss to lay the eggsss."_

_~Oh. OH!~_ Ginny said, blushing further. Merlin, she was talking about girl things with a snake, and she didn't even mind. She supposed that it was just another way her life was unusual and messed up.

_~Ssso that'ss your problem, then?~_ The snake asked, when Ginny did not speak.

_~Yeah. It'ss really complicated for humans.~_

_~Well,_ everything _is complicated for humans,~_ the snake responded. _~I've ssseen you creatures give each other bits of leaves in exchange for food, and it seems to work. If a snake tried to take or even trade food, he'd get a bite, and it'd probably be_ _with venom.~_

Ginny gave a startled laugh. _~Yeah, you're right.~_

_~Of course I am! It's common sense, isn't it?~_

Ginny laughed at that, too, and they made small talk in parseltongue for almost another hour before the snake at last began to coil up in preparation for leaving. _~I suppose I better go get a snake, now that I'm all warmed up,~_ she said. _~Maybe go get a castle rat.~_

Ginny rather wanted to stay, but she was getting hungry herself, and she had an essay that she had to do, anyway, so if the snake was going to leave, well, she might as well too. _~Ok, you do that then; I'll go and get something, too. It is mealtime, isn't it?~_

_~Yess. Every creature seems to get hungry around sunhigh.~_ The snake gave the equivalent of a smile and slid off through the grass, her green body disappearing in the camouflage almost immediately; there were no real fixed 'hasta la vistas' in parseltongue. Ginny was left looking after her for a long moment, before at last one of the Ravenclaws that she had Ancient Runes with called to her from across the grounds to come study and snack before dinner, and she picked up her bag and hurried away. Maybe she would see that snake again? Hmm. She didn't even know her name. Did snakes have names?


End file.
